


Free Birth Control

by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)



Series: Steter Week 2018 [8]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fem!Steter, Female Peter Hale, Female Stiles Stilinski, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Peter is a Little Shit, Stiles and Peter are still named Stiles and Peter, Witch Stiles Stilinski, but not for Stiles or Peter, referenced birth and pregnancy, why are my witches always hedge witches I should really branch out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 05:51:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15479028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somanyofthekids/pseuds/twothumbsandnostakeincanon
Summary: Day Eight of Steter Week, Dealer's Choice:“I can’t believe they haven’t fixed the footbridge yet,” Peter said, disgruntled as she toweled off her feet, getting all the muck from the creek off of them.“I can,” Talia said absently as she shelled peas on the front porch. “The only people who use that bridge are you, Stilinski, and Stilinski’s clients. And Stilinski does her best to avoid clients. Did you hear what she did to the woman who took out the bridge?” Talia settled further back into her chair. Peter immediately recognized it as Gossip Position, and leaned in eagerly.“No, tell meeverything.”





	Free Birth Control

**Author's Note:**

> Last day of Steter Week!! Holy shit this week was more intense than I thought it would be lmao. Anyway, Dealer's Choice today, and my choice is LADIES.

“I can’t  _ believe _ they haven’t fixed the footbridge yet,” Peter said, disgruntled as she toweled off her feet, getting all the muck from the creek off of them. 

“I can,” Talia said absently as she shelled peas on the front porch. “The only people who use that bridge are you, Stilinski, and Stilinski’s clients. And Stilinski does her best to avoid clients. Did you hear what she did to the woman who took out the bridge?” Talia settled further back into her chair. Peter immediately recognized it as Gossip Position, and leaned in eagerly. 

“No, tell me  _ everything.” _

“Well, you know it was Cindy Hooper who was responsible for the whole thing. She was out walking her hellhound. Never keeps him on a leash and certainly never bothered to train him either. Stilinski saw her with him and warned her to put him on a lead, but of course Cindy ignored her. Not a minute later, poor old Georgie, you know, the hellhound? Georgie saw a squirrel and took off, chasing it straight into the support beams for the bridge.” Talia clucked reproachfully. 

“And next- well, Cindy says that Witch Stilinski came out of her house and cursed her to be  _ barren. _ Of course Cindy was a downright irresponsible idiot for the whole bridge thing, but barrenness seems a little severe, don’t you think? I don’t know how Stilinski gets any business-”

Talia continued with her ramblings on what made Stilinski unnaturally unsociable, and why Cindy was a moron, and how lucky the town was that they had the Hales to make up for everyone else’s failings. 

But Peter’s mind was turning. Witch Stilinski could curse women with to be barren, huh?

Peter grinned to herself and let the wheels turn in her head.

* * *

 

Of course, the first step was crossing the damned creek again. She hauled her long skirt up her thighs, and waded across, slipping slightly on the algae covered rocks. When she got to the other side, she marched right up to Stiles Stilinski’s door and hammered away on it. It flew open a moment later. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming, how far apart-” the short haired witch pulled up short, mouth hanging open for a moment. “You aren’t Maggie. Did Maggie send you?”

“No.”

Stilinski heaved a sigh and slammed the door shut, right in Peter’s face. 

Affronted, Peter banged on the door again. The only response she got was a voice through the door.

“Deborah Havenson is nearly nine and a half months pregnant. I’m on call for that birth, so unless you’re her wife Maggie, or someone sent by Maggie to tell me that Deb is finally ready to squeeze out the kid, go away!”

“Being on call is just a fancy way of saying you’re sitting on your ass!” Peter yelled back through the door, which immediately flung back open. 

“What the  _ fuck _ did you just say?” Stilinski said, eyes flinty with anger. 

“You heard me,” Peter smirked. “You’re just trying to worm your way out of doing any work.”

Stilinski eyed her up and down, eyes lingering here and there on Peter’s curves. Peter preened.

“And just what kind of work do you have for me?” Stiles asked flatly, gaze still holding somewhere along the shadow of her collarbones.

“It’s not me,” Peter said dismissively. “It’s my sister. She needs something to get rid of the cabbage worms in her garden.”

Stiles raised a suspicious eyebrow. 

“It’s not a particularly bad year for cabbage worms, and she’s never asked for my help before. In fact, if I recall correctly,” and the glare in her eye said she  _ always _ recalled correctly, “Talia is the one who tried to get the town limits redrawn so that I would be outside, and thus no longer eligible for public utilities.”

Peter waved her hand dismissively. “She tried to cut out the McCalls and the Boyds too. It wasn’t personal, she’s just awful.”

“If she’s so awful, why would I agree to help her?”

Peter pulled out a checkbook and danced it in front of her. 

“She’ll pay double.” Talia would have no idea what the going rate was for pest control spells; Peter could just tell her that was Stilinski’s normal price.

Stiles eyed the checkbook for a moment and then finally stepped back, jerking her head in a terse invite. 

As soon as Peter was inside the small cottage, her eyes grew to the size of saucers. Books levitated along the walls, pots and pails of mysterious substances lined the countertops. There was a rabbit sleeping on top of the breadbox, and the breadbox was full of tiny flowers. 

Stiles was already in the kitchen mixing and stirring. Peter quickly moved over to the books and pulled one out, amazed at how it just dropped out of its floating position. She opened it and looked through, utterly absorbed for a moment before remembering that she had a plan. Stepping into the middle of the hardwood floors, she dropped the book flat with a loud  _ BANG. _

Stiles startled and spilled whatever it was she was mixing. She looked up with a vicious glare to see Peter shrugging innocently. 

“Oops.”

Stiles aggressively swept the mess into the sink and started again. 

Peter wandered into the kitchen and stood directly behind her, looking over her shoulder. She made little skeptical noises every time Stiles picked up a new ingredient, and by the fourth addition Stiles was grinding her teeth. 

So of course Peter leaned forward, lips right next to her ear, and whispered, “Are you sure about that one?” 

Stiles slammed everything down on the counter, palms flat and shoulders hunched. 

Speaking through a clenched jaw, she said “Why don’t you wait in the living room? It’s much more comfortable in there.” 

Peter smirked and glided off to the living room, leaving the witch staring daggers at her back. 

Peter was fully out of view of the kitchen now, and pouted a little at losing the sight of Stilinski. The witch had a gorgeous figure that Peter would’ve  _ loved _ to get beneath her, but unfortunately that wasn’t likely to happen after today. 

She sighed. Well, needs must. 

Peter went back to work, peering around the living room for the most convenient mischief she could instigate. Seeing a basket full of yarn, she took out a ball and rolled it across the room, calmly watching it unspool on its journey.

_ chk chk chk chk _

Peter startled, looking around at the sound and wondering if Stilinski had some sort of magical nanny cam. Instead, she found a little black cat butt wiggling back and forth behind a chair. Grinning, she picked up the loose end of the yarn and shook it back and forth. 

_ chkchkchk- _

The cat leapt out from behind the chair and onto the yarn before skidding across the room and right into a lamp. Peter watched, idly interested as the lamp crashed into the coffee table, knocked several delicate looking knick knacks over, and then rolled onto the ground, gouging into the wooden floor. 

“HALE!” Peter heard Stilinski bellow from the kitchen. She put on her most guileless face. 

Stiles stormed into the living room and stared at the scene. The lamp was bent, her yarn had been scattered across the floor and was currently being chewed on by the cat, and the glass puzzles Lydia had gotten her were shattered. 

“What. The fuck.”

“Whoopsie,” Peter said with a wide eyed shrug. 

Stiles took a deep breath, counted to ten, and then did it again. 

“You’re looking a little agitated there, Witch Stilinski,” Peter said casually. “Looking a little upset.”

“How could you possibly have guessed,” Stiles answered tightly, incensed. 

“Hm,” Peter said, leaning up against a bookshelf, smirking. “I can see how this would make one hungry for  _ retribution.” _

That… was a fucking weird thing to say. Stiles looked more closely at the Hale sister in her living room. Peter, she was pretty sure. 

Gorgeous, with long dark hair and enough muscles to carry trouble away and bring back twice as much. Stiles had seen her walking past the house on her way to the woods; she was one of the very few people who ever ventured in there. She always had a wink for Stiles, but had never stopped in as a client before…

“Why are you really here?” Stiles asked suspiciously. 

“Cabbage worms,” Peter said primly. 

“No,” Stiles said slowly, shaking her head. “That’s not why you’re here.”

Stiles suddenly threw up a hand and Peter found herself dragged over to the couch and invisibly bound there, glass pieces banished to a neat pile in the corner and lamp righted with a single movement. 

Peter’s mouth fell open, heart racing. 

Oh shit.

She hadn’t planned for this. She hadn’t realized Witch Stilinski was holding on to so much raw power _. _

She hadn’t planned to be so _impossibly_ _turned on_.

Witch Stilinski stepped lightly over to her, steel in every movement. 

“Why. Are. You. Here.”

“Because you decided on some impromptu bondage play,” Peter answered, cringing at the slight breathlessness in her words. She cleared her throat. “You really should have asked for my safe word first, babe.”

Stiles rolled her eyes. 

“I use the red-yellow-green system, by the way.”

Stiles pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“I’m open to scene nego-”

Stiles waved her hand again, and Peter’s voice cut off, mouth moving but no sound coming out. 

Stiles watched her mouth flap uselessly with a smug smile. 

“You’ll find your voice works again, and your body freed as soon as you tell me the truth about why you’re here.” She moseyed over to pick up her cat and tickled under her chin. 

“And don’t you think I missed your part in all this,” she told the cat sternly, giving her a little smooch on top of her head. 

Peter huffed out a breath, looking severely put out as Stiles sat across from her to rewind a ball of yarn. 

It only took about seven minutes before Peter blurted out, “FREE BIRTH CONTROL.”

Stiles looked up, startled. 

“Free birth control?” she asked incredulously. 

Peter scowled, but nodded. 

“Cindy Hooper,” she said as if that explained everything. 

Stiles’ frown got a little deeper at the name, but she continued to look just as confused. Peter sighed, exasperated. 

“Do I really have to explain everything? Cindy Hooper! Who was responsible for wrecking the bridge! She said you cursed her to be barren! I thought that maybe I could come over here and annoy you into doing the same to me.” Peter shrugged. “I don’t want kids. Ever. Free permanent birth control.”

Stiles’ mouth hung open. 

“She’s telling people I cursed her to be barren??”

Peter looked at her sideways. 

“... didn’t you?”

“I said I was gonna call my lawyer  _ Karen!” _ Stiles exploded, getting up to pace around the room. “Barren! What!! I can’t even do that!”

Peter leaned forward with a frown, and realized that true to Stiles’ word she could move freely. 

“You can’t?” she asked, put out. 

Stiles sent her a dry look. 

“No. You’ll have to stick to condoms and the pill like every other ovulating person.”

“Hm.” Peter sat back with a huff, absentmindedly feeling along her wrists where the magic had held her immobile. “Or…”

Stiles was done pacing, and just staring out the window grumpily now. 

“Or what.”

“I could just switch exclusively to women for a while,” Peter said lightly, eyes lingering on the witches’ hands. What else could they do? 

“Yeah, as long as your partner doesn’t- wait.” She looked up at Peter incredulously. “Are you actually, for really really real trying to talk me into bed right now?”

“Well, I was actually hoping for something more adventurous than a bed, but…”

“You literally just tried to annoy me into giving you free birth control,” Stiles said flatly. 

“Well, if you don’t  _ want _ to sleep with me-”

“I didn’t say that.” Stiles cut her off, looking at her speculatively. She took a few steps closer to the couch. Once she was finally within arms reach, she traced a finger along Peter’s jaw and watched her pupils grow as her breath became heavier. 

“You said red-yellow-green, right?” Stiles murmured. Peter nodded. 

“Good. When we’re done here, remind me to call Karen.”

She leaned her head down, bringing her lips to Peter’s-

And the front door burst open. 

“THE CONTRACTIONS ARE FIVE MINUTES APART! WITCH STILINSKI!!” 

_ “Goddamnit,” _ Stiles sighed, leaning her forehead against Peter’s. A moment later she straightened, looking at a panicked Maggie Havenson who was wringing her hands. 

“Alright,” Stiles said, switching to Professional Witch in a turn. “Run back home, go be with your wife. I’m going to get my bag and prep my assistant and then we’ll be right there.”

Maggie was out the door and halfway down the lane before Stiles was done talking. 

“Come on assistant,” she said, grabbing a bag by the hallway. 

“Excuse me?” Peter sputtered. “Assistant?!”

Stiles looked at her with an eyebrow raised. “You came over here, to the home of a witch filled with dangerous magical artifacts, with the express purpose of causing trouble. You’re lucky I’m not asking for more.” 

Peter considered that, and considered the likelihood of getting to see Stiles naked in the future if she didn’t go.

“Yeah, alright,” she grumbled.

* * *

 

The birth went fast but not too fast, and as smoothly as any birth goes. 

After, Peter and Stiles both sat at Stiles’ kitchen table, considering the afternoon’s events with a measure of whisky. 

“You know,” Stiles said eventually. “Maybe I  _ should _ make a spell for barrenness.” 

Peter made a fervent sound of agreement and downed her drink. 

**Author's Note:**

> Every time I open the Steter Week collection, I feel kinda like Scrooge McDuck diving into his vault of gold coins. Just reveling in the treasure, man.


End file.
